Chapter VIII: Introduction: The Paston Family (6)

And this, it is probable, they might have done with the greatest possible ease, were it not that the king’s loss of his faculties was so complete and absolute that it was impossible, by any means whatever, to obtain a semblance of acting upon his authority. [Sidenote: A.D. 1454.] About New Year’s Day, when the new-born prince was conveyed to Windsor, the Duke of Buckingham took the child in his arms and presented him to the king, beseeching him to give him a father’s blessing. Henry returned no answer. [Sidenote: The king and his child.] The duke remained some time with the child in the king’s presence, but could not extract from him the slightest sign of intelligence. The queen then came in, and taking the infant in her arms, presented him to his father, with the same request that the duke had made before her. But all their efforts were in vain; the king continued dumb, and showed not the slightest perception of what they were doing, except that for one moment only he looked upon the babe, and then cast down his eyes again.[133-2]

[Footnote 133-2: _Ibid._]

There were no hopes, therefore, that the king himself would interfere in any way to protect his favourites in the Council. [Sidenote: Every man looks to himself.] Every man felt it necessary to see to his own security. The Lord Chancellor himself, Cardinal Kemp, ‘commanded all his servants to be ready, with bow and arrows, sword and buckler, crossbows, and all other habiliments of war, to await upon the safeguard of his person.’ The Duke of Buckingham caused to be made ‘2000 bends with knots--to what intent,’ said a cautious observer, ‘men may construe as their wits will give them.’ Further from the court, of course, the old disturbances were increased. ‘The Duke of Exeter, in his own person, hath been at Tuxforth beside Doncaster, in the north country, and there the Lord Egremont met him, and the two be sworn together, and the duke is come home again.’ The Earl of Wiltshire and the Lord Bonvile made proclamations in Somersetshire, offering sixpence a day to every man that would serve them; and these two noblemen, along with the Lords Beaumont, Poynings, Clifford, and Egremont, were preparing to come up to London each with as strong a body of followers as he could possibly muster.[134-1]

[Footnote 134-1: No. 235.]

The Duke of York and his friends on their side did the same; and it was high time they should, otherwise the machinations of Somerset would certainly have been their ruin. The latter had spies in every great household, who reported to him everything that could be construed to the disadvantage of his opponents. [Sidenote: The Duke of York and Thorpe.] Among York’s private enemies, moreover, was Thomas Thorpe, Speaker of the House of Commons, who was also a Baron of the Exchequer. In the former capacity his functions had been for some time suspended; for Parliament, which had been prorogued to the 12th November at Reading, only met on that day to be prorogued again to the 11th February, in consequence of the mortality which prevailed in the town. Meanwhile, in Michaelmas term, the Duke of York took an action of trespass against him in his own Court of Exchequer, and a jury had awarded damages to the amount of £1000. On this judgment was given that he should be committed to the Fleet till the damages were paid, and in the Fleet the Speaker accordingly remained till the next meeting of Parliament.[135-1] In his confinement he was now busily employed in drawing up a bill of articles against the Duke of York, which doubtless, with the aid of a little favour at Court, would have been highly serviceable to the cause of Somerset.[135-2]

[Footnote 135-1: _Rolls of Parl._ v. 238-9.]

[Footnote 135-2: No. 235.]

The legal proceedings of which Thorpe was a victim appear doubtless to have been connected with party politics. His son and heir, Roger Thorpe, at the beginning of the reign of Henry VII. procured an Act of Parliament in his favour, showing that both he and his father had suffered injustice in the cause of the House of Lancaster, and that the Duke of York’s action of trespass against his father was owing to his having arrested, at the king’s command, ‘certain harness and other habiliments of war of the said duke’s.’[135-3] No doubt this must have been the case, but was the king’s command constitutional? Or was it, perhaps, only the command of Somerset given in the king’s name? An agent had no right to obey an unconstitutional order.

[Footnote 135-3: _Rolls of Parl._ vi. 295.]

About the 25th of January the Duke of York was expected in London, accompanied by a select body of men of his household retinue. With him came his son, the Earl of March, at this time not quite twelve years old; to whom, nevertheless, a separate household had already been assigned by his father, and consequently another company marched in the name of the Earl of March. These, however, were sent forward a little in advance. Along with the Duke of York there also came up, or was expected to come, his powerful friend the Earl of Warwick, who, besides the retinue by which he was attended, was to have a thousand men awaiting his arrival in London. Even these noblemen and their companies formed a most powerful confederacy. But there were two other great personages besides who travelled with them on the same road, whose sympathy and co-operation with York at this time no reader would have conjectured. The king’s two half-brothers, the Earls of Richmond and Pembroke, were expected to reach London in the duke’s company; and they, too, had wisely taken with them a good number of followers, for, notwithstanding their relation to the Crown, it was thought not unlikely that they would be arrested on their arrival.[136-1]

[Footnote 136-1: No. 235.]

In short, the continuance of the king’s infirmity had now rendered it clear to every man that unless the Council were willing to comply with the Queen’s demands, and yield up to her the uncontrolled management of public affairs, the government of the kingdom must be placed in the hands of the Duke of York. And yet some little time was necessarily allowed to pass before any special powers could be intrusted to him. Parliament was not to sit again till the 11th February, and Reading was still the place where it was appointed to assemble. The Earl of Worcester, who filled the office of Lord Treasurer, was commissioned to go down to Reading, and cause it to adjourn from the 11th to the 14th of the month, to meet that day at Westminster. Meanwhile a commission was granted to the Duke of York to act as the king’s lieutenant on its reassembling.[136-2]

[Footnote 136-2: _Rolls of Parl._ v. 238-9.]

[[on its reassembling.[136-2] _final . missing_]]

[Sidenote: Parliament and the Speaker.] On the 14th, accordingly, the Houses met in the royal palace of Westminster; but the Commons were without a Speaker, and another of their members, by name Walter Rayle, was also undergoing imprisonment, from what cause does not appear. The Commons, therefore, before proceeding to business, demanded of the King and the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, that their ancient privileges should be respected, and their Speaker and the other member liberated. The case was taken into consideration by the Peers on the following day, when it was explained by the Duke of York’s counsel that the Speaker had a few months before gone to the house of Robert Nevill, Bishop of Durham, and there taken away certain goods and chattels belonging to the duke against his will; that for this he had been prosecuted in the Court of Exchequer, as it was a privilege of that court that its officers in such cases should not be sued before any other tribunal; that a jury had found him guilty of trespass, and awarded to the duke damages of £1000 and £10 costs. Speaker Thorpe had accordingly been committed to the Fleet for the fine due to the king. The proceedings against him had not been taken during the sitting of Parliament, and it was urged that if he should be released by privilege of Parliament a great wrong would be done to the duke. It was a delicate question of constitutional law, and the Lords desired to have the opinion of the judges. But the chief justices, after consultation with their brethren, answered, in the name of the whole body, that it was beyond their province to determine matters concerning the privilege of Parliament; ‘for this high court of Parliament,’ they said, ‘is so high and mighty in his nature that it may make law, and that that is law it may make no law; and the determination and knowledge of the privilege belongeth to the Lords of the Parliament, and not to the Justices.’ Nevertheless, as to the accustomed mode of procedure in the lower courts, the Judges remarked that in ordinary cases of arrest a prisoner was frequently liberated on a writ of _supersedeas_ to enable him to attend the Parliament; but no general writ of _supersedeas_, to surcease all processes, could be allowed; ‘for if there should be, it should seem that this high court of Parliament, that ministereth all justice and equity, should let the process of the common law, and so it should put the party complainant without remedy, for so much as actions at the common law be not determined in this high court of Parliament.’[137-1]

[Footnote 137-1: _Rolls of Parl._ v. 239-40.]

From this carefully considered reply it was clear to the Lords that they were at least nowise bound to interfere in behalf of the imprisoned Speaker, unless they considered the liberties of Parliament likely to be prejudiced by the circumstances of his particular case. It was accordingly decided that he should remain in prison, and that the Commons should be directed to choose another Speaker. This they did on the following day, and presented Sir Thomas Charleton to the Lord Chancellor as their new representative; who being accepted by that functionary in the name of the king, both Houses at once proceeded to business.[137-2]

[Footnote 137-2: _Ibid._ 240.]

A month later the Commons came before the Duke of York, as the king’s lieutenant, with two very urgent petitions. [Sidenote: Defence of Calais.] The first related to the defence of Calais and the safeguard of the sea. Notwithstanding the very liberal grants which had already been voted by this Parliament, Calais was still in danger, and the sea was still very insufficiently protected; insomuch that the Lord Chancellor had told the House of Commons £40,000 would be required to obviate very serious perils. The Commons were very naturally alarmed; a modern House of Commons would have been indignant also. They had in the preceding year voted no less than £9300 for Calais, partly for repairs and partly for making jetties, besides all the sums voted for the pay of the garrison and the tonnage and poundage dues, which ought to have been applied to general purposes of defence. They therefore humbly petitioned to be excused from making any further grants; ‘for they cannot, may not, ne dare not make any mo grants, considered the great poverty and penury that be among the Commons of this land, for whom they be comen at this time; and that this their excuse might be enacted in this high court of Parliament.’ The money already voted was evidently conceived to be somewhere, and was considered to be quite sufficient to do the work required; so the Commons were told in reply by my Lord Chancellor the Cardinal, ‘that they should have good and comfortable answer, without any great delay or tarrying.’[138-1]

[Footnote 138-1: _Rolls of Parl._ v. 240.]

[Sidenote: A council required.] The second petition was that ‘a sad and wise Council’ might be established, ‘of the right discreet and wise lords and other of this land, to whom all people might have recourse for ministering justice, equity, and righteousness; whereof they have no knowledge as yet.’ The Duke of York was only the king’s lieutenant in Parliament. With the assent of the Great Council he could prorogue or dissolve it and give the royal assent to any of its acts. But the business of the nation imperatively required that some smaller body of statesmen should be intrusted with more general powers. Even before the king’s illness the constitution of some such body had been promised to the Parliament at Reading as a thing contemplated by the king himself;[138-2] and it was now more necessary than ever. The only problem was how to confer upon it an authority that could not be disputed.

[Footnote 138-2: _Ibid._ 241.]

But while the Lords are taking this point into consideration, we invite the reader’s attention to a piece of private history.

[Sidenote: Thomas Denyes.] A few years before the date at which we have now arrived, one Thomas Denyes, a trusted servant of the Earl of Oxford, seems to have caused his master some little inconvenience by falling in love with a lady who resided in the neighbourhood of Norwich. We regret that we cannot inform the reader who she was. All that we know is that her Christian name was Agnes, which was at that time popularly corrupted into Anneys and frequently confounded with Anne, and that she was an acquaintance of John Paston’s. With John Paston, accordingly, the earl thought it best to communicate, and in doing so earned for himself the heartfelt gratitude of Denyes by one of those small but truly gracious acts which reveal to us better than anything else the secret of the power of the English aristocracy. The lady seems not to have given her admirer any great encouragement in his suit. She had property of her own worth 500 marks, and could have had a husband in Norfolk with land of 100 marks value, which was more than Denyes could offer her. But the Earl of Oxford requested John Paston to intercede with her in behalf of her wooer, promising her that if the marriage took effect the Earl would show himself liberal to them both. He further offered, if it would be any satisfaction to her, to go himself into Norfolk and visit her.[139-1]

[Footnote 139-1: Nos. 124, 240.]

This intercession was effectual, and the lady became the wife of Thomas Denyes. It was a triumph of love and ambition to a poor dependant on a great earl. But with increase of wealth, as others have found in all ages, Denyes experienced an increase of anxieties and of business also. A suit in Chancery was commenced against him and his wife by a gentleman of the name of Ingham, who considered himself to have a claim on the lady’s property for a considerable sum of money. Ingham’s son Walter was active in procuring the _subpœna_. But Denyes, strong, as he believed, in a great lord’s favour, conceived a plan by which he might either interrupt the suit or revenge it on the person of Walter Ingham. On the 11th of January 1454--just about the time the queen and Buckingham were making those vain attempts to introduce his child to the notice of the unhappy king--when, consequently, it was still uncertain whether York or Somerset would have the rule, and when lawless persons all over the country must have felt that there was more than usual immunity for bad deeds to be hoped for,--Thomas Denyes wrote a letter in the name of the Earl of Oxford to Walter Ingham, requiring his presence at the earl’s mansion at Wivenhoe, in Essex, on the 13th. This letter reached Ingham at Dunston, in Norfolk, and he at once set out in obedience to the summons. [Sidenote: Walter Ingham waylaid.] But as he was nearing his destination, on the 12th, he was waylaid by a party in ambush hired by Denyes, who beat him so severely upon the head, legs, and back that he was maimed for life, and compelled to go on crutches for the rest of his days. Ingham complained of the outrage to the Lord Chancellor, Cardinal Kemp, who sent a sergeant-at-arms to arrest Denyes at Lincoln’s Inn; but he at first refused to obey the arrest. Shortly afterwards, however, he was committed to the Fleet prison; and Ingham, with the favour of the cardinal and the Earl of Oxford, who utterly repudiated the act of his dependant, presented a petition to Parliament that he should not be admitted to bail or mainprise until he had been tried for the outrage and all actions between him and Ingham had been fully discussed and settled.[140-1]

[Footnote 140-1: Nos. 238, 239.]

The Earl of Oxford seems to have been thoroughly incensed, and not without reason, against a servant who had so abused his trust. Cardinal Kemp, as chancellor, was not less righteously indignant; and a bill was actually passed through the House of Peers in accordance with the prayer of Ingham’s petition. Yet it is difficult to understand why the punishment of the wrong committed was not left to the operation of ordinary criminal law. The case, perhaps, affected too seriously the honour of a nobleman, and the discretion to be allowed to a retainer. But whatever may have been the cause, poor Denyes now becomes positively an object for compassion--all the more so because his chief feeling in the matter was not a selfish one. [Sidenote: Denyes and his wife in prison.] Besides imprisoning Denyes himself in the Fleet, the cardinal and the Earl of Oxford threw his wife into the Counter, and afterwards sent her to Newgate, where she suffered the discomforts of a gaol apart from her husband, although she was then with child. ‘Which standeth too nigh mine heart,’ is the brief expression in which he conveys his feelings to John Paston, while apparently he was expecting to hear that his wife was either dead or prematurely delivered; for the treatment she had met with brought on the pains of labour long before the right time had come. Denyes, however, made friends with the warden of the Fleet prison, who contrived in some manner to make interest for her with her gaoler, so that afterwards she was rather better treated, and at last admitted to bail.[141-1]

[Footnote 141-1: No. 239.]

Poor Denyes was in dread of still further evils arising out of the case when he wrote these facts to John Paston. The bill against him had already passed through the Lords, and he was in fear that it might pass through the Commons also, which we afterwards learn that it did not.[141-2] His adversary, moreover, was bent upon revenge; ‘for Ingham,’ he said, ‘lieth, beside that, to take away my wife’s daughter out of Westminster,[141-3] to make an end of my wife if he can, and also to arrest my servants, that I dread that she nor I shall have no creature to attend us ne help us; and such malice have I never heard of here before. And it is told me that beside that they will despoil, if any good they can find of mine in Norwich or Norfolk, and imprison my servants there.’ All this he urgently implored Paston to prevent to the best of his ability. And it must be said that John Paston, although he considered himself little bound to Denyes, except in so far as he had promoted his marriage at the Earl of Oxford’s solicitation, on this occasion stood his friend. He wrote a letter to the earl urgently interceding for the unhappy wife; and though it seems probable the letter that he first wrote was not actually sent, we may fairly presume that he either devised a second to the same effect, or used his influence otherwise to the same end. Certain it is that he made some effort for which Denyes was beyond measure grateful.[142-1]

[Footnote 141-2: No. 244.]

[Footnote 141-3: Apparently Agnes Denyes had taken sanctuary at
Westminster before her imprisonment. The manner in which Denyes
here speaks of her daughter gives us reason to believe that she
was a widow before he married her.]

[Footnote 142-1: Nos. 240, 245.]

‘The cardinal is dead and the king is relieved.’ Such were the last words of a postscript which Denyes appended to his first melancholy letter, complaining of his own and his wife’s imprisonment. A rumour apparently had been spread that the king’s health was beginning to improve; for which, as we shall see, there was very little foundation. [Sidenote: Death of Cardinal Kemp.] But it was perfectly true that Cardinal Kemp, Archbishop of Canterbury and Chancellor of England, was dead. Little as we know, beyond a few broad facts of his career, whereby to judge his real character and aims, it is certain that he was an accomplished statesman. A follower originally of Cardinal Beaufort,--the man who of all others could serve two masters, Rome and England, with the least degree of repugnance, and of whom the best that can be said is, that he never scrupled to betray the former in what appeared to be the interest of the latter,--Kemp was, perhaps, as honest a specimen of the political churchman as an essentially bad system could produce. The clergy, however, were really needed as statesmen; few laymen had the ability, learning, or education to enable them to do the essential work of the nation; and Kemp was one who had gained for himself, by his own talents, the highest position to which a subject could aspire in England, not only in the realm but in the Church.

Thus, at a time when the functions of royalty itself were suspended, the chancellor, the official keeper of the king’s conscience, was suddenly taken away; and in him England also lost her primate, always one of the most important members of the Council. The formation of a governing Council was now more important than ever; but the most pressing questions of all were the appointment of a new chancellor and of a new archbishop. Who was to take upon himself to nominate either the one or the other? The queen’s modest claim to be invested with the functions of her husband had not been listened to by the Lords; but the powers as yet conferred upon the Duke of York were only to represent the king in Parliament.

It was upon the 19th of March that the Commons had pressed their petition for the establishment of a Council. Cardinal Kemp died on the 22nd. [Sidenote: Deputation of Lords to the king.] On the 23rd the Lords appointed twelve of their number as a deputation, headed by Waynflete, Bishop of Winchester, to ride to Windsor and endeavour, if possible, to lay the state of matters before the king. Their instructions were drawn up in six articles, but only two were to be communicated to the king if they found him unable to pay attention to what was said. These two were a mere assurance of anxiety to hear of his recovery, and that the Lords, under the presidency of the duke as his lieutenant, were using their best discretion in the affairs of the nation. If any response were made to these two articles, the deputation was then to tell him of the death of Cardinal Kemp, and ask to know his pleasure who should be the new archbishop and who should be appointed chancellor. They were to say that for the security of the Great Seals (there were at this time no less than three Great Seals used in the Chancery)[143-1] the Lords had caused them to be produced in Parliament, and after being seen by all the Lords they were enclosed in a coffer sealed by a number of the Peers present, and then laid up in the Treasury. Finally, they were to ask the king’s mind touching the establishment of a Council, telling him how much it was desired by the Commons, and suggesting the names of certain Lords and persons whom it was thought desirable to appoint as Councillors. All these matters, however, were to be communicated only to the king in the strictest privacy.[143-2]

[Footnote 143-1: Nicolas’s _Privy Council Proceedings_, vol. vi.
preface, pp. clxxviii.-ix.]

[Footnote 143-2: _Rolls of Parl._ 240-1.]

The deputation returned two days after with a report of the total failure of their mission. They had waited on the king at Windsor just after he had dined, but could get from him no answer nor sign that he understood their message. [Sidenote: The king’s imbecility.] The Bishop of Winchester then told the king that the Lords had not dined, and that after they had they would wait on him again. After dinner accordingly they were again with him, and tried all they could to elicit an answer; but the king was speechless. They then proposed that he should go into another room, and he was led between two men into his bedchamber. A third and last effort was then made to rouse him by every expedient that could be imagined; and when all else failed, a question was put to him which involved no more than a simple yes or no. Was it his Highness’s pleasure that they should wait on him any longer? A long pause was allowed in the hope that any mere physical difficulty might be overcome. A faint nod, even a shake of the head, would have been regarded with some degree of satisfaction. But it was all in vain. ‘They could have no answer, word ne sign; and therefore with sorrowful hearts, came their way.’[144-1]

[Footnote 144-1: _Rolls of Parl._ 241.]

It was now clear that the highest constitutional authority resided for the time in the Lords Spiritual and Temporal. The reader, imbued with modern notions of the power and prestige of the House of Commons, may possibly think that their votes, too, should have been consulted in the formation of a Government. Such a view, however, would be radically erroneous. The influence which the House of Commons has in later times acquired--an influence so great that, at times unhappily, Acts are even passed by Peers against their own sense of right and justice, in deference to the will of the Lower Chamber--is a thing not directly recognised by the constitution, but only due to the control of the national purse-strings. Strictly speaking, the House of Commons is not a legislative body at all, but only an engine for voting supplies. The Peers of the realm, in Parliament or out of Parliament, are, according to the constitution, the sovereign’s privileged advisers. A king may, no doubt, at any time call to him what other councillors he pleases, and the prerogative of the Lords may lie dormant for a very long period of time; but the Peers of the realm have, individually or in a body, a right to tender their advice upon affairs of state, which belongs to no other class in the community.

On the 27th of March, therefore--two days after the report of the deputation that had seen the king at Windsor--the Lords took the first step towards the establishment of order and government, by electing Richard, Duke of York, as Protector and Defender of the realm. [Sidenote: The Duke of York Protector.] The title of Protector essentially implied an interim administrator during a period when the king, by legal or physical incapacity, was unable to exercise his regal functions in person. A Protector’s tenure of power was therefore always limited by the clause _quamdiu Regi placeret_. It was terminable by the king himself the moment he found himself able to resume the actual duties of royalty. Even a protectorship like that of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, instituted in consequence of the king being an infant, was terminated before the royal child was eight years old by the act of his coronation. The crowned and anointed infant became a king indeed, and therefore no longer required the services of a Protector; so from that day Duke Humphrey had ceased to wield any authority except that of an ordinary member of the Council. But, indeed, even during his protectorship, his powers were greatly circumscribed; and it had been expressly decided by the Council that he was not competent to perform an act of state without the consent of a majority of the other Lords. Richard, therefore, knowing that his powers would be limited, was most anxious that his responsibility should be accurately defined, that no one might accuse him thereafter of having exceeded the just limits of his authority. He delivered in a paper containing certain articles, of which the first was as follows:--

‘Howbeit that I am not sufficient of myself, of wisdom, cunning, nor
ability, to take upon me that worthy name of Protector and Defender
of this land, nor the charge thereto appertaining, whereunto it hath
liked you, my Lords, to call, name, and desire me unworthy
thereunto;--under protestation, if I shall apply me to the
performing of your said desire, and at your instance take upon me,
with your supportation, the said name and charge, I desire and pray
you that in this present Parliament and by authority thereof it be
enacted, that of yourself and of your free and mere disposition, ye
desire, name and call me to the said name and charge, and that of
any presumption of myself, I take them not upon me, but only of the
due and humble obeisance that I owe to do unto the king, our most
dread and Sovereign Lord, and to you the Peerage of this land, in
whom by the occasion of the infirmity of our said Sovereign Lord,
resteth the exercise of his authority, whose noble commandments I am
as ready to perform and obey as any his liege man alive; and at such
time as it shall please our blessed Creator to restore his noble
person to healthful disposition, it shall like you so to declare and
notify to his good grace.’[146-1]

[Footnote 146-1: _Rolls of Parl._ v. 242.]

In reply to this, it was put on record that it was ‘thought by the Lords that the said Duke desireth that of his great wisdom for his discharge.’ And they, too, for their own justification, resolved that an Act should be made according to a precedent during the king’s minority, setting forth that they themselves, from the sheer necessity of the case, had been compelled to take upon themselves the power of nominating a Protector. So jealous were the Lords of anything like an invasion of the royal prerogative!

Further, the duke required that the Lords would aid him cordially in the execution of his duties and would exactly define such powers and liberties as they meant him to exercise; that they would arrange what salary he should receive; and that all the Lords Spiritual and Temporal belonging to the King’s Council would agree to act in the Councils of the Protector. These matters being at length satisfactorily adjusted, the duke was formally created Protector by patent on the 3rd of April. It was, however, at the same time provided by another patent that the office should devolve on the king’s son as soon as he came of age.[146-2] After this, five Lords were appointed to have the keeping of the sea against the king’s enemies, and in addition to the subsidies already voted by Parliament for that object, a loan, amounting in all to £1000, was levied upon the different seaports.[146-3] This was but light taxation, and was no doubt cheerfully submitted to. The good town of Bristol, we know, did more than it was asked; for Sturmyn, the Mayor, fitted out a stately vessel expressly for the war.[146-4] Evidently there were zeal and patriotism in the country whenever there was a government that could make good use of them.

[Footnote 146-2: _Ibid._ 243.]

[Footnote 146-3: _Rolls of Parl._ 244-5.]

[Footnote 146-4: No. 249.]

[Sidenote: Calais again in danger.] And there was real need of that patriotism; for the French were again threatening Calais. They also made a descent in great force on the isles of Jersey and Guernsey, but were defeated by the valour and loyalty of the inhabitants, who killed or took prisoners no less than five hundred of their assailants.[147-1] A Council was called to meet at Westminster on the 6th of May, to take measures for the defence of Calais,[147-2] the result of which and of further deliberations on the subject was seen in the appointment of the Duke of York as captain or governor of the town, castle, and marches. This office was granted to him by patent on the 18th of July,[147-3] but he only agreed to undertake it, as he had done the Protectorship, subject to certain express conditions to which he obtained the assent of the Lords in Parliament. Among these was one stipulation touching his remuneration, in which he affirms that he had served the king formerly at his own cost in the important offices he had filled in France and in Ireland, so that owing to non-payment of his salary, he had been obliged to sell part of his inheritance and pawn plate and jewels which were still unredeemed.[147-4] A very different sort of governor this from the avaricious Somerset!

[Footnote 147-1: No. 247.]

[Footnote 147-2: Nicolas’s _Privy Council Proceedings_, vi. 174.]

[Footnote 147-3: Rymer, xi. 351. Carte’s _Gascon and French
Rolls_.]

[Footnote 147-4: _Rolls of Parl._ v. 252.]

Meanwhile other changes had been made in the administration. On the 2nd of April--the day before the duke’s appointment as Protector--the Great Seal had been given to Richard Nevill, Earl of Salisbury, as chancellor; [Sidenote: Disturbances in the North.] and to prevent any renewal of disturbances in the North by the earl’s former opponent Lord Egremont, his father, the Earl of Northumberland, was summoned before the Council. But before the day came which was given him to make his appearance, news arrived that Lord Egremont had already been making large assemblies and issuing proclamations of rebellion, in concert with the Duke of Exeter. To restore tranquillity, it was thought proper that the Duke of York should go down into Yorkshire, where he no sooner made his appearance than his presence seems to have put an end to all disturbances. The Duke of Exeter disappeared from the scene and was reported to have gone up secretly to London; but the adherents of Lord Egremont continued to give some trouble in Westmoreland. Thither the Duke of York accordingly received orders from the Council to proceed; but he probably found it unnecessary, for on the 8th of June it is stated that he intended remaining about York till after the 20th. Every appearance of disturbance seems to have been quelled with ease; and a number of the justices having been sent into Yorkshire for the punishment of past offences, the Protector was able to return to London in the beginning of July.[148-1]

[Footnote 148-1: Nicolas’s _Privy Council Proceedings_, vi. 178,
193-7. Nos. 247, 249.]

It was at this time that the two eldest sons of the Duke of York, Edward, Earl of March, and Edmund, Earl of Rutland, who were of the ages of twelve and eleven respectively, addressed the following interesting letter to their father:[148-2]--

‘_To the ryght hiegh and myghty Prince, oure most worschipfull and
gretely redoubted lorde and fader, the Duke of Yorke, Protector and
Defensor of Englonde._

‘Ryght hiegh and myghty Prince, oure most worschipfull and gretely
redoubted lorde and Fader, in as lowely wyse as any sonnes con or
may we recomaunde us un to youre good lordeschip. And plaese hit
youre hieghnesse to witte that we have receyved youre worschipful
lettres yesturday by your servaunt William Cleton, beryng date at
Yorke the xxix day of Maij, by the whiche William and by the
relacion of John Milewatier we conceyve your worschipfull and
victorious spede ageinest your enemyse, to ther grete shame, and to
us the most comfortable tydinges that we desired to here. Where of
we thonke Almyghty God of his yeftes, beseching Hym hertely to geve
yowe that grace and cotidian fortune here aftur to knowe your
enemyse and to have the victory of them. And yef hit plaese your
hieghnesse to knowe of oure wilfare, at the makyng of this lettre we
were in good helith of bodis, thonked be God; beseching your good
and graciouse Faderhode of youre daily blessing. And where ye
comaunde us by your said lettres to attende specialy to oure lernyng
in our yong age that schulde cause us to growe to honour and
worschip in our olde age, Please hit youre hieghnesse to witte that
we have attended owre lernyng sith we come heder, and schall here
aftur; by the whiche we trust to God youre graciouse lordeschip and
good Fadurhode schall be plaesid. Also we beseche your good
lordeschip that hit may plaese yowe to sende us Harry Lovedeyne,
grome of your kechyn, whos service is to us ryght agreable; and we
will sende yow John Boyes to wayte on youre good Lordeschip. Ryght
hiegh and myghty Prince, our most worschipfull and gretely redoubted
lorde and Fader, We beseche Almyghty God yeve yowe as good lyfe and
longe as youre owne Princely hert con best desire. Writen at your
Castill of Lodelow the iij day of June.--Youre humble sonnes,

‘E. MARCHE,
‘E. RUTLOND.’

[Footnote 148-2: Printed from the original in MS. Cott., Vespasian
F. xiii. fol. 35.]

Soon after the duke had returned to London his presence was required at a Great Council summoned for the 18th of July, to consider the expediency of liberating on bail his great rival and personal enemy, the Duke of Somerset, who had been now seven months in prison. [Sidenote: The Duke of Somerset.] On this point York had only one piece of advice to offer, which was, that as he had been committed to custody upon suspicion of treason, the opinion of the judges should be taken before he was released from confinement. That he had remained so long without a trial was not unnatural, considering the nature of the times. It was a bold step indeed to try him at all, while there was a chance of the weak-minded king’s recovery; but this step was certainly resolved on. The 28th of October was the day appointed for his trial; and the Duke of Norfolk, who, as we have seen, had been the first to move the capital charge against him, was ordered by that day to be ready to produce his proofs. Meanwhile the lords concurred that it was clearly inexpedient to let him go, especially as the number of lords assembled was not so great as it should have been on the occasion; and the opinion of the Duke of York was not only agreed to, but at his request was put on record.[149-1]

[Footnote 149-1: Nicolas’s _Privy Council Proceedings_, vi. 207.]

Six days later it was agreed at another meeting of the Council that the Duke of York should return into the North with the Duke of Exeter in his custody, whom he was to confine in the castle of Pomfret as a state prisoner.[150-1]

[Footnote 150-1: Nicolas’s _Privy Council Proceedings_, vi. 217,
218.]

By these decisive steps the authority of the Duke of York was at length secured on something like a stable footing. During the remainder of his protectorate there could no longer be a doubt to whose hands power was committed; and England, at last, had the blessing of real government, able and vigorous, but at the same time moderate. The resolutions of the Council soon became known to the public. ‘As for tidings,’ wrote William Paston to his brother in Norfolk, ‘my lord of York hath taken my lord of Exeter into his award. The Duke of Somerset is still in prison, in worse case than he was.’ William Paston wrote in haste, but these were two matters of public importance to be mentioned before all private affairs whatever.[150-2] And yet the private affairs of which he wrote in the same letter will not be without interest to the readers of this Introduction. [Sidenote: Sir J. Fastolf goes to reside in Norfolk.] William Paston now reported to his brother that Sir John Fastolf was about to take his journey into Norfolk within a few days, and proposed to take up his residence at Caister. His going thither must have been regarded as an event not only in the neighbourhood of Yarmouth but even in the city of Norwich. At all events it was highly important to John Paston, whose advice the old knight valued in many matters. ‘He saith,’ wrote William Paston to his brother, ‘ye are the heartiest kinsman and friend that he knoweth. He would have you at Mauteby[150-3] dwelling.’ This must have been written in the latter part of July. Sir John did not actually go into Norfolk quite so soon as he intended; but he appears to have been there by the beginning of September.[150-4]

[Footnote 150-2: No. 254.]

[Footnote 150-3: The manor of Mauteby, which came to John Paston
by his marriage, was only three miles distant from Caister.]

[Footnote 150-4: No. 260.]

There in his completed castle of Caister he had at length taken up his abode, to spend the evening of his days in the place of his birth, and on the inheritance of his ancestors. There during the next five years he spent his time, counting over the items of a number of unsettled claims he had against the crown,[151-1] and meditating also, it would seem, on another account he had with Heaven. For the latter the foundation of a college[151-2] or religious endowment, in which were to be maintained ‘seven priests and seven poor folk’ at Caister, might possibly liquidate his debts. But in his transactions with his fellowmen he was certainly for the most part a creditor, and by no means one of the most generous. Instances will be found in his letters in abundance showing with what vehemence (testy old soldier that he was!) he perpetually insisted on what was due to himself;--how he desired to know the names of those who would presume to resist his agent, Sir Thomas Howes--how they should be requited ‘by Blackbeard or Whitebeard, that is to say, by God or the Devil’;[151-3]--how he noted that Sir John Buck had fished his stanks and helped to break his dam;[151-4] how he had been informed that at a dinner at Norwich certain gentlemen had used scornful language about him, and desired to know who they were.[151-5] In this perpetual self-assertion he seems neither to have been over-indulgent towards adversaries nor even sufficiently considerate of friends and dependants. ‘Cruel and vengeable he hath been ever,’ says his own servant Henry Windsor, ‘and for the most part without pity and mercy.’[151-6] So also on the part of his faithful secretary, William Worcester, we find a complaint of shabby treatment, apparently at this very time when the household was removed to Caister. To a letter in which John Paston had addressed him as ‘Master Worcester,’ the latter replied with a request that he would ‘forget that name of mastership,’ for his position was by no means so greatly improved as to entitle him to such respect. His salary was not increased by one farthing in certainty--only ‘wages of household in common, _entaunt come nows plaira_’--which apparently means, assured to him only during his master’s pleasure. When he complained to his master of this, all the satisfaction he obtained was that Sir John expressed a wish he had been a priest, when he could have rewarded him with a living.[152-1]

[Footnote 151-1: Nos. 309, 310.]

[Footnote 151-2: Nos. 340, 350, 351, 385, 386, 387.]

[Footnote 151-3: No. 125.]

[Footnote 151-4: Nos. 160, 161.]

[Footnote 151-5: No. 272.]

[Footnote 151-6: No. 332.]

[Footnote 152-1: Nos. 258, 259.]

There are, indeed, in more than one of Worcester’s letters in this collection symptoms of ill-concealed chagrin and disappointment. Nor were such feelings unnatural in one who, probably out of regard for an ill-appreciated hero, had devoted the best energies of his life to the services of such a master as Fastolf. [Sidenote: William Worcester.] A native of Bristol, the son of one William Worcester, who lived in St. James’s Bec in that town, he was descended by the mother’s side from a wealthy family of Coventry, and often called himself, instead of Worcester, by his mother’s maiden name of Botoner. Born in the year 1415, he had entered the university of Oxford in 1432, and been four years a student at Hart Hall, now Balliol College; after which he had gone into Fastolf’s service. For many years he had been steward of Sir John’s manor of Castle Combe in Wiltshire, and MSS. still exist in his handwriting relating to the holding of manorial courts there.[152-2] He had also been Fastolf’s secretary in drawing up various statements regarding the wars in France in vindication of his master’s policy.[152-3] He was a man of literary tastes, who had already presented some compositions to his patron.[152-4] Later in life he wrote a book of annals, which is an important historical authority for the period. It seems to have been about a year before his master’s death that he set himself assiduously to learn French, under the tuition of a Lombard named Caroll Giles.[152-5] From this instructor he had purchased several books, and Henry Windsor suspected he had run himself into debt in consequence. He had fairly owned to Windsor ‘he would be as glad and as fain of a good book of French or of poetry, as my master Fastolf would be to purchase a fair manor.’[152-6] But he had a special object in view in which a knowledge of this language was important; for he had begun translating, at Fastolf’s request, from a French version, Cicero’s treatise _de Senectute_. This work appears to have been left on his hands at Sir John Fastolf’s death, and on the 10th of August 1473 he presented it to his patron’s old friend, Bishop Waynflete, at Esher. ‘Sed nullum regardum recepi de episcopo’ (but I received no reward from the bishop), is his melancholy comment on the occasion.[153-1] The work was ultimately printed by Caxton in 1481. Worcester was an assiduous collector of information on topics of every description, and a number of his commonplace books remain at this day. But like many men of letters after him, he found that industry of this sort may look in vain for any reward beyond the satisfaction of gratified curiosity.[153-2]

[Footnote 152-2: Add. MS. 28,208, B.M.]

[Footnote 152-3: Stevenson’s _Wars_, ii. [519], _sq._]

[Footnote 152-4: ‘Stellæ versificatæ pro anno 1440 ad instantiam
J. Fastolfe militis.’ MS. Laud., B. 23 (according to the old
pressmark).]

[Footnote 152-5: Letter 370.]

[Footnote 152-6: In previous editions it was here remarked:--‘This
French zeal appears to have excited the contempt of some of his
acquaintances--among others of Friar Brackley, who nicknamed him
Colinus Gallicus.’ The discovery of additional letters, formerly
published in a Supplement, but now incorporated with the series,
seems to show that this was an error, or at all events very
doubtful. It is clear from Letter 404 that a certain ‘W. W.’ and
Colinus Gallicus were different persons (_see_ vol. iii. p. 213,
note 3), and the references to ‘W. W.’ at p. 230 as the knight’s
secretary and one of his executors remove any doubt that we might
otherwise entertain that he was William Worcester. But a new
difficulty arises from that identification, that Friar Brackley
calls ‘W. W.’ an Irishman, which William Worcester was not; and
the references at p. 220 of the same volume would imply that he
was really an Irishman in nationality, and also a one-eyed man of
dark visage. Such may have been Worcester’s personal appearance;
but why was he called an Irishman?

It is with some hesitation that I hazard a new conjecture as
to the person nicknamed Colinus Gallicus; but on comparing the
different passages where that nickname occurs, I am inclined
to think it was meant for Judge Yelverton.]

[[p. iii. 230 = Letter 417; p. iii. 220 = Letter 409]]

[Footnote 153-1: Itin. 368.]

[Footnote 153-2: Tanner’s _Bibliotheca_. _See_ also a notice of
William Worcester in _Retrospective Review_, Second Series, ii.
451-4.]

Along with the announcement that Sir John Fastolf was about to go into Norfolk, William Paston informed his brother that the old knight’s stepson, Stephen Scrope, would reside at Caister along with him. [Sidenote: Stephen Scrope.] Of this Stephen Scrope our Letters make not unfrequent mention; but the leading facts of his history are obtained from other sources. He was the son of Sir Stephen Scrope, by his wife Lady Milicent, who married Fastolf after her husband’s death. At the time of this second marriage of his mother, young Scrope was about ten or twelve years of age, and being heir to a considerable property, his stepfather had the management of his affairs during his minority. Bitterly did he complain in after years of the manner in which Sir John had discharged the trust. According to the unfeeling, mercenary fashion in which such matters were then managed, Fastolf sold his wardship to Chief-Justice Gascoigne for 500 marks; ‘through the which sale,’ wrote Scrope at a later date, ‘I took sickness that kept me a thirteen or fourteen years [en]suing; whereby I am disfigured in my person and shall be whilst I live.’ Gascoigne held this wardship for three years, and by right of it intended to marry Scrope to one of his own daughters; but as the young lad’s friends thought the match unequal to his fortune, Fastolf bought the wardship back again.[154-1] Stephen Scrope, however, when he grew up, was not more grateful for the redemption than for the original sale of his person. ‘He bought me and sold me as a beast’ (so he writes of Sir John Fastolf), ‘against all right and law, to mine hurt more than 1000 marks.’ In consequence of the stinginess of his stepfather he was obliged, on coming of age, to sell a manor which was part of his inheritance and take service with Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester in France; by whom, according to his own account, he had some hope of obtaining restitution of the lordship of the Isle of Man, which had belonged to his uncle the Earl of Wiltshire in the days of Richard II. But Sir John Fastolf got him to give up his engagement with the duke and serve with himself, which he did for several years, to the satisfaction of both parties. Afterwards, however, on some dispute arising, Scrope returned to England, when Sir John sent home word that he must pay for his meat and drink. To do this he was driven to contract a marriage which, by his own account, was not the most advantageous for himself; and his stepfather, instead of showing him any compassion, brought an action against him by which he was deprived of all the little property that his wife had brought him.[154-2]

[Footnote 154-1: No. 97.]

[Footnote 154-2: Scrope’s _History of the Manor of Castle Combe_,
pp. 264-283. The MSS. formerly at Castle Combe, to which Mr.
Scrope refers in this work, have since been presented by him and
Mr. Lowndes, the present lord of the manor, to the British Museum.
One of them we have reprinted in No. 97.]

Of this first wife of Stephen Scrope we know nothing,[154-3] except that she died and left him a daughter some years before we find any mention of him in the Paston correspondence. His necessities now compelled him to resort to the same evil system of bargaining in flesh and blood of which he had complained in his own case. ‘For very need,’ he writes, ‘I was fain to sell a little daughter I have for much less than I should have done by possibility,’--a considerable point in his complaint being evidently the lowness of the price he got for his own child. It seems that he disposed of her wardship to a knight[155-1] whose name does not appear; but the terms of the contract became matter of interest some time afterwards to John Paston and his mother, when Scrope, who, besides being disfigured in person, was probably not far from fifty years of age, made an offer for the hand of Paston’s sister Elizabeth, a girl of about twenty. The proposed match did not take effect; but it was for some time seriously entertained. Agnes Paston writes that she found the young lady herself ‘never so willing to none as she is to him, if it be so that his land stand clear.’[155-2] The reader will perhaps think from this expression that the young lady had been pretty early taught the importance of considering worldly prospects; but there were other motives which not improbably helped to influence her judgment. ‘She was never in so great sorrow as she is now-a-days,’ wrote Elizabeth Clere to John Paston, as a reason for concluding the matter at once with Scrope, if no more desirable suitor presented himself. Her mother would not allow her to see any visitor, and was suspicious even of her intercourse with the servants of her own house. ‘And she hath since Easter the most part been beaten once in the week or twice, and sometimes twice in one day, and her head broken in two or three places.’[155-3] Such was the rough domestic discipline to which even girls in those days were occasionally subjected!